


Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat

by ImJustFandomTrash



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Father! John Wick, Gen, Gore, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Swearing, Violence, daughter! Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 02:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14885999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImJustFandomTrash/pseuds/ImJustFandomTrash
Summary: Eighteen-year-old (Y/n) Wick was just a normal girl before she was introduced to the secret life of Assassins and Crime by her godfather, Winston. As the daughter of the infamous Baba Yaga, (Y/n) is expected to take her fathers terrifying throne at some point within her life. However, can she really do such a thing?With the fate of her fathers' life in her hands, it is up to (Y/n) to figure out a way to destroy the Global Contract that has been placed upon her father. But how long can she go for in the race against time? How long can she fight the righteous fight...if it's even righteous at all?Will she be the downfall of a mighty yet corrupted empire, or become just another life lost in the fray?Jump in on the ride as (Y/n) fights for her fathers' life while trying to save her own.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Gooooooood morning, my doves. I know I have the transformers/supernatural fic to do. don't worry, i'm going to be working on both of these alternatively. I've got like a lot of this story written down, and I decided I would post it for you guys :D Hope you enjoy this one!

Life was beautiful. It was something that didn't come often, despite what people might have thought. It was short, that was something John Wick knew very personally. However, it could be sweet. It could be gentle, kind, and rewarding. As he stared down at the little baby girl within his girlfriend's arms, John was happy. There was nothing else in the world that mattered to him than Helen and (Y/n) (M/n) Wick. As he sat down on the hospital bed, Helen's sweat and tear-streaked face smiling at him, John smiled back.

Yes, life was beautiful. Especially when it was within the two women that he vowed to love for the rest of his life. As his girlfriend allowed John to hold his daughter for the first time, John couldn't help but cry. Yes, life was sweet. Especially when it was in his arms, opening its eyes for the first time...and smiling at him for the first time. His eyes closed as he gently placed his forehead against his daughters, and he was quiet; not daring to say a word to break the beautiful silence that had overcome the room.

Life was beautiful, but that didn't mean it didn't come with its ups and downs. In the back of his mind, John knew. He just simply knew. While life was sweet, it was also cruel. So, John was going to enjoy this for as long, and as much, as he could. As his girlfriend kissed his cheek, he whispered to her, his eyes closed and nose nuzzling her as (Y/n) gently squirmed in his arms.

"Marry me."

Helen smiled, replying back quietly.

"I already have."

John opened his eyes to look at her, and he smiled. When was the last time he had felt so happy? John replied, bumping heads with her gently.

"Then let's make it official."

Helen smiled widely, looking down at their child. Setting her chin on John's shoulder, she whispered.

"I'd like that."

And she did.

* * *

Growing up, (Y/n) was noticeably one of the brightest kids John had ever known. She was inventive and clever, always trying to find alternative solutions to the easiest problems. One of the most admirable things about (Y/n) was that she always managed to find the joy in the littlest things. There was never a moment where she wasn't either smiling or laughing her heart away. When a challenge was presented to her, (Y/n) took it on with the utmost determination, and never stopped in her task of completing the challenge until it was finished.

John and Helen were proud of the beautiful child they had created. (Y/n) had a wonderful home, a lovely family, and it was everything to John. Hell, if he could give her everything in the world, John would do it in a heartbeat. When Helen passed away, (Y/n) had just turned seventeen. (Y/n) had known what was happening, and John hated that he couldn't help his daughter. However, as time went on, and they both healed in their own ways, John couldn't help but be so shocked that his daughter didn't let her mother's death be the one thing to take away her happiness.

In fact, she seemed to rise and learn from it, and John wished he could do the same. Instead, he had closed himself off, and confined himself into his study and his hobby of book restoration. However, there was one thing that never, ever changed throughout his time with (Y/n), and that was how proud he was of her. John believed that no matter what she did, John would always find the littlest thing to be proud of. Whether it was the way she smiled, even during the hard times, or the way she could make her friends laugh with a simple joke. John would never stop being proud of her.

Not even if the life that he had left came back to swallow her up.


	2. The Secret Life of Wicks

(Y/n) sighed as she woke up, the fluffy white pillows and the sun greeting her. Gently squirming within the luxury Italian sheets of her bed, she sat up, stretching. Listening closely, (Y/n) could hear the sound of the coffee pot beeping, signaling that her father was up and making coffee. Getting up, (Y/n) rubbed the back of her neck and walked out of her room, pausing in the hallway. Her head was down, hand rubbing her sore neck, and (Y/n) winced. Wondering if she slept wrong, (Y/n) glanced up, becoming wistful.

In front of her was a picture of her, her mother, and her father. All wearing happy smiles, not a worry in the world. At times, (Y/n) wished that she could go back in time. She wished that she could go back to when her mother was healthy, and when she was still...(Y/n) shook her head, turning away from the picture. The past was the past, and there was nothing that she could do to change that. The only possible thing that (Y/n) could hope to do in order to heal was to keep going...to keep surviving. If not for her sake, then for her father.

As her bare feet padded against the polished hardwood floors, her father perked up. His chocolate eyes met hers, and he greeted her with a cup of hot coffee, his tired voice meeting her ears with a softness only she could distinguish.

"Good morning, (Y/n). How did you sleep?"

Taking the cup, she took a sip in thanks, sighing as the beverage warmed her up. As the beverage comforted and warmed her, she murmured back, glancing up at the taller man.

"Well. I woke up kind of sore, though. I think I slept wrong."

John blinked, nodding slightly before replying, turning back to his book.

"Moving around should help."

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, smiling at John.

"Are you trying to get me to-"

She playfully gasped.

"-Be active? Oh, the horror! How could you ever mutter such blasphemy so freely?"

John closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly. (Y/n) grinned, and she set her coffee on the counter.

"I guess I'll go hang out with the girls today. Don't miss me too much while I'm gone, Dad!"

"Is that supposed to be a joke? Because it wasn't very good if it was."

(Y/n) scoffed as she called over her shoulder, walking down the hallway and back to her room.

"It  _was_  funny. You just have no sense of humor."

Her father simply grumbled, and (Y/n) grinned in triumph before getting ready for the day ahead of her.

**-TIMESKIP-**

(Y/n) smiled as her three friends dragged her along the walkway, talking about anything and everything that came to mind. However, (Y/n) suddenly got the strangest feeling that she was being watched. Turning, she found her godfather, Winston, and asked her friends.

"Girls, would it be alright if I could hang back? My godfather is here, and I think he wants to speak with me."

Akira, a beautiful Japanese girl that (Y/n) had met in school, smiled and nodded, pushing her shoulder gently.

"Of course! We'll be at Starbucks!"

(Y/n) smiled and nodded, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear. As the girls walked away, (Y/n) straightened her posture and turned. Her eyes spied Winston, who smiled at the young girl. Winston walked up to the young Wick and greeted her.

"Ms. Wick."

(Y/n) smiled and nodded her head a bit.

"Winston, it's a pleasure to see you again. How are you today?"

Winston smiled and gesture for her to walk with him. (Y/n) began to walk with the older man, falling into step with him. Winston replied, looking out at the park, the fountain getting closer.

"I could be doing better. I hope I am not intruding on your time with your friends."

"No, it's quite alright. We were just talking about what girls talk about."

Winston chuckled, and (Y/n) smiled. Winston stated, sighing.

"There's been some things that I wanted to speak to you about for a while now, now that you have turned eighteen."

(Y/n) blinked and paused as Winston did, his eyes looking down at her. (Y/n) asked, tilting her head.

"How come you couldn't tell me before?"

Winston sighed.

"Well, your father would have killed me, for one. Two, you have your own free will now."

(Y/n) laughed and shook her head.

"I'm sure that whatever you have to tell me, my father wouldn't kill you for it. He's a good man. Yes, he can be a stick in the mud sometimes, but my father wouldn't hurt anybody."

Winston gave (Y/n) a look, seeming conflicted, but shook his head. Winston sighed and simply replied.

"There are many things that you don't know about, Ms. Wick."

(Y/n)'s smile faltered and she asked, becoming slightly worried.

"Winston, is everything alright?"

Winston murmured.

"Do you know why you always have the most expensive clothes? Why your house is so nice? Why the cars are so nice, and the people look at you with jealousy?"

"Well, yeah. My dad has a lot of money, but I don't see why that matters? My fathers' money has never mattered to me."

Winston shook his head.

"But do you know how he gets it, my dear?"

(Y/n) frowned. Now that she thought about it, she never saw her dad leave for a job. Well, he did leave, sometimes for long periods of time, but (Y/n) figured that he worked at home and went out whenever work asked him to.

"He has a job…and he works at home?"

Winston shook his head.

"No, my dear. Far from that."

Winston that dug into his pocket and pulled out a gorgeous coin, golden in color, and slightly bigger than a quarter.

"Your father is in some trouble."

(Y/n) blinked, immediately becoming alarmed. Pulling at the black sleeves of her designer Akris blouse, (Y/n) asked.

"What kind of trouble? How can I help?"

Winston gave (Y/n) a look, seeming conflicted, before sighing, flipping the coin in the air at her, the coin making a metallic  _'ding!'_  as it flew through the air. The girl caught the coin with one hand, blinking, and Winston replied.

"Get a cab around eight pm, sharp. Pay the taxi driver with this coin, and tell them to take you to the Continental. When you get to the Continental, Charon will introduce himself to you. Tell him that you have an appointment with the Manager, and state your name. He will take you to me. I will explain everything then."

(Y/n) asked in a hushed tone.

"Winston, what's going on?"

Winston gently kissed her forehead and simply replied.

"Go get yourself a coffee with your friends, my dear. I'll see you at 8:15."

With that, Winston walked away, and (Y/n) stared at the coin within her hand. Turning it over, she observed it before pocketing it, walking the opposite way to Starbucks to catch up with her friends.

**-TIMESKIP-**

At 7:50 pm, (Y/n) decided to text her father. Clicking on his name, she began to type.

_'I might be a bit late coming home tonight. The girls wanted to see a movie and asked me to come along. I'm going to go with them if that's alright?'_

Almost immediately, a message from John popped up on the screen.

_'Alright. Be safe. Try to be home before midnight. The door will be unlocked for you.'_

(Y/n) bit her lip, closing her eyes. There was one thing that (Y/n) never did, and that was lie to her father. She hated it. Throughout her life, she tried to keep her relationship with her father the most honest and breaking her silent rule hurt her. However, Winston's enigmatic words had awakened her curiosity. There was no way that (Y/n) was going to be able to ignore Winston's request to have her meet him. Looking up at the girls, she informed them.

"I'm sorry to have to cut this short, girls, but my father wants me home."

Sheila, the Irish girl of the group, smiled sweetly.

"That's ok, (Y/n). We'll see you later!"

The other two nodded in agreement, and (Y/n) smiled at them, her heart swelling in appreciation for the three friends she had been fortunate enough to meet.

"Thank you so much. You guys are always so understanding. I better be going."

The girls waved her off, and (Y/n) was quick to run out. Hailing a cab, she bit her lip. Should she really go through with this? Looking at the clock on the radio, she eyed it to be 8:00 pm, and (Y/n) took a deep breath. The cab driver, who was looking her expectantly, asked her.

"Lady, I ain't got all day. Where ya need to go?"

She handed him the gold coin, asking.

"Would you take me to the Continental, please?"

The cab driver suddenly became stoic, his posture straightening. No longer looking unfriendly or impatient, he took the coin, pocketing it, and replied, his eyes glancing at her through the rear view mirror.

"Yes, ma'am. We'll be there in about ten minutes."

Nodding, (Y/n) sat back in her seat. As the world passed her by, (Y/n) wondered once more if she was making the right choice. Nevertheless, she wondered just what kind of trouble her father was in that reduced Winston into asking her, of all people, for help. What could she do to help her father? She was nobody in the world. She was just the daughter of a successful and wonderful man. What could she possibly do to get her father out of trouble? As the cab pulled up to the Continental, (Y/n) glanced at the driver as he bid her farewell.

"We are here, Miss. Enjoy your stay."

"Oh, um...thank you, Mister. Have a good night."

Getting out, she glanced up at the Continental. (Y/n) had passed by this building many times, but had never been inside. In fact, her father had forbid her of ever going inside this place. She had always wondered what was inside that made her father so iffy about her going in. Walking inside, she spied the front desk, and a young man wearing glasses. The man glanced at her and asked.

"Good evening, Madam. How may I be of service?"

(Y/n) rocked on her heels slightly, asking quietly as she glanced around, seeing men and women of different ages staring her down as if she was an alien.

"I'm here to see Winston...the manager...I have an appointment with him."

The man smiled, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, you must be Ms. Wick. My name is Charon. I shall escort you to the manager."

(Y/n) paused. How did he know her? Maybe Winston told Charon who she was. (Y/n) glanced at the clock behind Charon. Seeing that it was 8:12pm, she was quick to follow Charon, whose stride was much longer than hers. As she walked a bit behind him, she noticed that he walked with a confidence and elegance that seemed to float around the room. Walking into an elevator, Charon pushed a button, and (Y/n)'s nerves began to rise. Where was he taking her? Wouldn't Winston's office be on the floor with the Lobby?

The farther the Elevator went, the more anxious she became. When the elevator finally stopped, Charon walked through what seemed to be the boiler room, weaving in and out of the machinery with skill and ease. Charon brought the two of them to a door, taking a moment to take out one of the mysterious golden coins Winston had given her. Slipping it through a slot, a panel opened, revealing the face of a man, who glanced at the two of them. The panel closed, and the door opened, allowing the two of them access. (Y/n) was in awe.

Behind the door was a bar, full of lively people who were drinking and having a great time. A singer was one a stage, dancing seductively as she sang, and Charon brought (Y/n) to a table, Winston sitting on one side. Charon greeted.

"I've brought Ms. Wick as instructed."

Winston glanced up from above his glasses, smiling as he slipped them off.

"Thank you, Charon. I will take it from here."

Charon nodded, nodding at (Y/n) as well, and left. (Y/n), who was still in awe of the secret bar, sat down slowly, her eyes watching the people around her. Some of them had returned her gaze, seeming to not be looking away any time soon. She asked, looking at Winston.

"Winston, what is this place?"

Winston chuckled, sipping a martini.

"What do you think?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you."

Winston grinned before sighing. (Y/n) glanced at a file that was open before Winston, and she asked.

"What am I doing here, Winston? What's going on with my dad?"

Winston rubbed his eyes before asking.

"Do you know of the work  _Hamlet_  by Shakespeare, my dear?"

(Y/n) frowned and replied.

"Yes, I do. It's one of my favorite works by him, besides  _The Tempest_  and  _Macbeth_. Why do you ask?"

Winston sipped on his martini, replying.

"If you recall, when the ghost of Hamlet's father appeared to him once, he said  _'I am thy father's spirit, Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, And for the day confined to fast in fires till the foul crimes done in my days of nature are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid to tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold whose lightest word would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combinèd locks to part, and each particular hair to stand on end, like quills upon the fretful porpentine. But this eternal blazon must not be to ears of flesh and blood.'_  "

Winston glanced up at (Y/n).

"In these lines, the ghost told Hamlet that until he avenged his 'foul and most unnatural murder,' he would be confined to the wretched abyss of Purgatory. Nevertheless, that he could not tell Hamlet his secrets for his secrets would terrify him."

(Y/n) became frustrated, leaning in.

"That's a nice analysis, Winston, but what does this have to do with my father?"

Winston tilted his head at her.

"In this story, you are Hamlet, and your father is the ghost. He has been keeping things from you, (Y/n)...very important things...things that could mean the end of your life."

(Y/n)'s eyes widened, and she sat back in her seat, asking.

"What, pray tell, the fuck do you mean by that, Winston?"

Winston chuckled before turning the file in front of him around, sliding it over to her. Looking down, she frowned deeply when she noticed her father's full name was upon it, his picture like a mugshot. She looked up at Winston, but Winston simply gestured at the file. Looking back to it, she noticed that it didn't seem to be a normal file. Frowning, she read it over. What she read made her blood run cold.

 _ **Occupation** : Assassin (formerly)_  
_**Membership** : Revoked_

(Y/n) glared at Winston.

"Is this some sick joke? My father would never hurt anybody. He is a gentle, kind man."

Winston shook his head, asking.

"Are you sure about that? How much of your fathers life do you actually know about, (Y/n)?"

Glancing back at the file, she bit her lip. Winston had a point. There was a lot that she didn't know about her father, and while she respected that her father was a private man, she had always wanted to know. Looking at a photo in the file, her eyes widened, and her hand came to her lips. In the photo was her father, clearly holding a gun to a man, clearly having shot the man. Her eyes strayed to Winston and he looked sad.

"I didn't want to tell you, but I'm afraid you are the last resort. At the Continental, there are two rules no one can ever break. No business is to be conducted on Continental grounds, and Blood Oaths must always be honored. Your father broke one of these rules."

(Y/n) asked.

"Ok, so what happens when he breaks the rules?"

"A global contract is made."

(Y/n) frowned.

"A contract? You mean like...like a warrant?"

Winston nodded, but his expression was grave.

"Yes, but it's much worse. It's not a warrant for an arrest...it's a warrant for the person's death. A  _global_  contract...it means that all of the assassins in the world get the notification of the open contract. Whoever completes it first gets the bounty, and all goes back to normal."

(Y/n)'s face paled, her eyes widening as her jaw fell open.

"Winston, this is madness!"

He shook his head.

"No, this is  _business_. Lucky for you, I know of a way to save your father from his inevitable demise. It's going to be very hard, but that's why I chose you."

"Me? How can I help him? I don't...I can't... _kill_  someone, Winston. I'm not that kind of person."

Winston stared at her, asking.

"Are you willing to allow the question of whether or not your father will live through the day hang over your head for the rest of your life?"

No. She wasn't. (Y/n) was protective of her father. In fact, she might have been the most protective person anybody could have ever met when it came to her father. After all, she had seen what her mothers death had done to him. It had tore him apart, turned him inside out, and made him a changed man. How could she not be protective of the one man who had vowed to protect her the day she had breathed her first breath?

"No. What do you want me to do?"

Winston smiled softly at the young Wick.

"You know, you always reminded me of your father when it came to people you both love."

"Why is that?"

Winston sat back in his seat, finishing his martini.

"You both are willing to go to great lengths if it means protecting the ones you love."

**-TIMESKIP-**

At 10:45pm, (Y/n) arrived home. Exhausted, she quietly slipped in, hoping to not wake her father up. As she walked in, the pitbull her father had gotten padded up to her, wagging his tail. Gently scratching him behind the ear, (Y/n) walked into the hallway, staring down at her fathers' door. Biting her lip, she walked down to it and looked inside, seeing her father sleeping peacefully. Quietly walking inside, she sat on the bed beside him, watching him quietly. (Y/n) didn't believe this to be the face of a killer. This was the face of a man who was gentle and kind, who loved her like no one else and went to the ends of the earth to give her the best life she could have after her mother's death. This was the face of a man who pushed aside his own needs for his daughters' needs. What killer would do that?

Gently, her hand came up to brush hair out of his face, smiling softly as he sighed in his sleep. Leaning forward, she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, whispering.

"Goodnight, Dad. I love you."

Slowly and softly, she got up, padding across the floor, into the hallway, and into her own room. She missed John opening his eyes, watching her leave, and smiling softly at her before officially going to sleep.


	3. Paying For A Murder Most Foul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! Reviews would be greatly appreciated!

(Y/n) watched as Winston showed her the different cutlery for each meal, his eyes never leaving the table.

"Do you understand?"

He asked. Nodding, (Y/n) asked as he moved on to how to sit properly and to keep her posture straight.

"Although, why would I need this information? I'm saving my dad, not a dinner party."

Winston glared at her.

"Every assassin must know the ins and outs of dinner service. If he is to carry out a contract consisting of one of the guests who sits at the table, who is an official of some sort or of high class, his or hers robust and poor meal etiquette would mark them as suspicious. Upper-class people are very suspicious of those lower than them. They will pick up on anything. If an assassin wants to blend in, the assassin must become one of the Upper's own...and meal etiquette is apart of the process."

(Y/n) sighed as Winston continued the lesson. This ' _training_ ' that he was putting her through was boring, and while she hated to admit it, she knew that the lessons were needed. She glanced at Winston before asking.

"When does the physical training begin?"

Winston paused his lesson before chuckling.

"Are you that eager to begin learning how to kill?"

"Not to kill, to fight and defend."

At least, that was what she believed. Winston shook his head.

"(Y/n), you must realize that this life is about killing. You may fight and defend, but in the end, it is always going to be either you or the other person. In this world, it is killed or be killed...and with you being who you are; while you have an advantage, people are more willing to kill you than they are to spare you. If your last breath is what it takes to draw out the Baba Yaga and to complete the global contract, they will steal your breath before you can finish taking it."

Winston glared down at (Y/n).

"You must understand that your death is not an option. Your father's life is at stake, and you are the only person who can save him. One mess up, and it's over for you."

(Y/n) shook her head, whispering.

"Winston, how can I kill if I've never killed before? I cried when I accidentally suffocated a ladybug."

Winston's eyes softened.

"The first kill is always the hardest...but if you know where your priorities lie, and what it is you will gain...in the end, the kill is worth it."

(Y/n)'s eyes stared at the man, awed by his...wise philosophy. Winston turned back to the table and declared.

"Let us continue the lesson. When you sit, you sit with purpose-"

**-TIMESKIP-**

(Y/n) had noticed that her father had started to become suspicious of her whereabouts. Winston's lessons in the past month had taught her many things, and she had begun to pick up on many things that she never picked up on before. She read body language better, she could tell how a person was feeling just by the look in their eyes, and she could tell when someone was lying to her. Nevertheless, (Y/n) was learning many things that in the past, she would have never tried learning. With different teachers hired by Winston training her and working her to the bone, there were many things she was learning to prepare her for the assassin life: Different languages, hand-to-hand combat, combat with weapons. In a way, she was becoming a soldier, and it scared her.

She was almost always gone during the day now, and she was running out of excuses to tell her father. The first time, she claimed that she would be staying the week at Akira's, claiming that Akira's parents had gone back to Japan for the week, so the girls were going to take over the house. In reality, Akira and her family actually went to Japan, and she had stayed at the Continental all week, free of charge, thanks to Winston. Her father had accepted the lie easily, but it hurt to lie to the man she had vowed to always be honest with. During the next week, it had been harder to come up with an excuse. She had claimed that Akira's parents had run into some trouble, and had to stay for two more weeks; claiming that a family member had a horrible accident. So, she was going to stay with Akira as support, since Akira couldn't fly to Japan.

In reality, she had stayed another two weeks at the Continental and continued her vigorous training. John had been iffy about her being gone for so long but didn't refute her wishes. He knew how much the girls meant to her, and a part of her wished that John would see through her lies. For the whole two weeks, Winston had worked her to the bone, never letting her rest for more than fifteen minutes throughout each activity, whether it was Foreign Language, Etiquette, Physical Training, or anything else that had to do with the assassin life. (Y/n) had learned quickly that Winston was not fucking around. He meant business, and he was going to work her raw until the only thing that was on her mind was completing her mission.

The last week of the first month of training was the hardest. With her lie having come to its deadline, she couldn't use Akira as an alibi (although Akira had no idea what she was even doing, either. In fact, no one she knew did). However, Winston, being the clever godfather that he was, asked John if he could take her to Paris. A gift from him, he had claimed. John had already become clingy but supposed that it would be alright, as long as (Y/n) kept in contact throughout the week as much as she could. (Y/n) and Winston had agreed, and another week of training began. By the end of the first month, (Y/n) had become skilled in the art of profiling and reading people, and had become skilled in hand-to-hand combat. She had improved immensely on her marksmanship, and with ten hours of the day being devoted to learning Russian, she was already fluent in the language.

The recommended time to be awake was 16 hours. Winston and the men he had hired had trained her to survive off of at least six hours of sleep, with the first eight hours being devoted to her physical and mental training, the rest of the ten were devoted to language. It was hard, vigorous, and challenging, but (Y/n) didn't give up. If her fathers' life depended on whether or not she was a good assassin, then she would be the best that she could be.

By the middle of month two of her training, John had started to notice things. (Y/n) wasn't sure on how to sway him from finding her out, but Winston had told her that he would have it covered. What he had planned, she didn't know until she found out from other assassins that the  _'Baba Yaga'_ , who she had learned was her father's nickname in the assassin world, had killed at least five men during the span of the week. She had glared at Winston, but Winston had just shrugged and sipped on his martini. (Y/n) wasn't an idiot, however. She knew that was the 'cover' that Winston had planned.

At the end of month three, she was sure her father was following her around, trying to be inconspicuous. However, with the endless training from Winston and the men he had hired, (Y/n) knew when someone was following her. So, she had to improvise, with Winston's miraculous help. Going into bakeries, going out the back, elaborate disguises, and the classic  _'disappear in a crowd of people'_  method. Her father, she noticed, had started to become frustrated with her. While she felt bad, (Y/n) had to soldier through it, remembering that she was doing this for her father's life. Not because it was fun. In a terrifying turn of events, that's what the training had become: fun. She enjoyed shooting paper targets, and practicing her martial arts with her instructor. She enjoyed getting tips on how to be a proper lady from the beautiful bartender, Addie, who seemed to know her father.

(Y/n) enjoyed becoming an assassin, and it terrified her. What would her father think of her? John would probably disown her if he found out what she was doing. Although, the apple never falls far from the tree. Maybe John should have seen this coming. After all, everyone she had met at the Continental had told her that as John Wick's only daughter, she was expected to take his place in the assassin world. She was expected to become the new Baba Yaga. Her of all people. It was...surreal to her that even when  _her_  name was dropped, people had shivers run down their spine.

By the beginning of the fourth month, she had met one very exquisite man named Viggo Tarasov. Winston had warned her against him, claiming that there was bad blood between him and her father, but (Y/n) could only avoid a person for so long until fate forced her to meet the person. She had been at the bar with Addie, sipping on a wine cooler, as that was the only thing Addie was allowed to give her for the time being, when Viggo had approached her. Speaking in Russian, he had said to her.

_"Beautiful woman, what are you doing in this place?"_

_(Y/n)'s eyes strayed to Viggo, and in her peripheral, she noticed Addie stiffen. She replied back, her Russian confident and just as perfect as the mysterious man's._

_"Depends. What are you doing in this place?"_

_Viggo chuckled at her, and turned to Addie, slipping two golden coins to her._

_"A scotch for me, and whatever she's having."_

_Addie nodded, taking the coins, and pouring his drink. Slipping the wine cooler her way, Addie gave her a look of warning, but (Y/n) decided that she would play with this man. After all, he didn't seem as bad as Winston claimed him to be. Viggo asked, leaning closer to her, his blue eyes trained on her as if she was a light he could not look away from._

_"Just what might your name be, darling?"_

_(Y/n) replied back, her eyes trained on Viggo with a look of certainty and confidence only a Wick could possess._

_"(Y/n) Wick."_

_(Y/n) asked, even though she knew very well who the man was, taunting him with the pet name he had called her._

_"And who might you be,_ darling _?"_

_Viggo's eyes had widened significantly at the mention of her last name, but his gaze had softened. A smile broke out onto his face, and he replied back._

_"Viggo Tarasov, at your service. I take it that your father is John Wick?"_

_(Y/n) nodded, replying._

_"Yes. Apparently, everyone seems to know that."_

_They both chuckled, and Viggo replied, taking a sip of his drink._

_"Well, your father was a very popular man, Ms. Wick."_

_"Yes, the Baba Yaga, as they call him so affectionately. Feared in both the Upperworld and the Underworld. The one who does his job too well."_

_Viggo hummed in confirmation. He murmured._

_"I had no idea John had a child. Are you an only child, my dear?"_

_(Y/n) glanced at him, wondering why he would want to know, but figured that it would be alright to tell him._

_"Not a lot of people knew. My father's very private about his life...and yes, I'm an only child."_

_Viggo hummed in sympathy, looking at her with mischievous eyes._

_"It must get lonely for you, Ms. Wick."_

_Her eyes turned to her glass, her mood dropping slightly._

_"Only when the weather gets cold...and it starts to rain."_

_Viggo was quiet, his eyes trained on her like a serpent watching its prey. Calculating, profiling, trying to figure her out. (Y/n) glanced at Viggo, asking._

_"Do you get lonely, Mr. Tarasov?"_

_The question had thrown him off, and she wasn't going to wait for an answer. In fact, (Y/n) didn't even want to know. Taking a gold coin, she slipped it to Addie, saying while placing her hand on Viggo's shoulder._

_"His last drink is on me, Addie."_

_Addie nodded, and (Y/n) stood, nodding to Viggo._

_"It was a pleasure to meet one of my fathers' former employers. Be seeing you, Mr. Tarasov."_

_Viggo, intrigued by her, watched as she left, the gears in his head already turning._

(Y/n) hadn't told Winston of her meeting with Viggo, but Winston had known. All thanks to Addie, bless her worried heart. Winston hadn't done anything else but told her to be careful. That it was "already cracked glass" that she was walking on with Viggo. However, she couldn't see what there was to be worried about. Viggo was sweet to her, and had even offered to help her continue her Russian lessons. Although she had it covered, she had appreciated his offer. After that, Viggo seemed to be a common occurrence within her life. However, she wouldn't deny that there was something strange about him. He almost seemed...haughty, in a way, when she was around him. As if she didn't know something that he did.

She remembered when she had returned to the bar to discuss her progress with Winston.

**_-NO ONES POV-_ **

_The lively bar was oblivious to her, all except one. As she walked to Winston's signature spot in the back, ice blue eyes had watched her from the counter, calculating and deciding on a course of action. Sipping the rest of his drink, Viggo stood up, weaving in and out of the dimly lit bar. His eyes never left (Y/n), scanning her appreciatively as if she was a piece of meat on sale for the market. However, his hunger for her was different than the common lust-filled bosoms within the bar. Greeting her, he smiled, his fingers coming up to purposefully feel her skin._

_"Ms. Wick, you grace us with your bewitching presence again."_

_(Y/n) had blinked and turned, replying back as Viggo's hand came to rest upon her bare back, his eyes taking in her classy, black dress and the skin it snuggled against._

_"Oh, Mr. Tarasov, please...you flatter me. I didn't know you were in today. Are you working?"_

_Viggo chuckled, leaning in slightly, his breath hot against her cheek._

_"If I was, would you be surprised?"_

_(Y/n)'s voice was shaky as she replied, becoming unnerved by Viggo's proximity to her._

_"Not really. You seem like the hard-working type."_

_Viggo chuckled, and (Y/n) glanced at Winston, who was staring at the two of them with uneasy eyes. Viggo placed a kiss to (Y/n)'s temple, informing her as his thumb brushed against the skin of her lower back._

_"I hate to cut the meeting short, but I must get going. A hard-working man never slacks. Have a good evening, my dear."_

_(Y/n) had watched with him leave, her eyes curious. Winston was quick to say._

_"(Y/n), that man is to not be trusted. You are playing with a fire that will burn you up faster than Hell ever could."_

_(Y/n) stared down at Winston._

_"I can take care of myself, Winston. I'm being careful, I promise."_

_Winston sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose._

_"Do not let the spider fool you and pull you into its web, (Y/n). Viggo is planning something. I can see it."_

_She was glad she wasn't the only one who thought that._

After that, Winston had taken the liberty of telling her the history between her father and Viggo. What he had told her made her sick to her stomach. (Y/n) remembered that weekend. Thankfully, she hadn't been home during that incident. However, when her father had to break the news of Daisy's death to her, (Y/n) hadn't taken it well. She had fallen asleep in her fathers' arms for the first time in a long time that night. After Winston's story, she took to making sure that the only time she ever needed to go to the bar was for her lessons with Addie. Addie, the kind soul, had paused the lesson one day, her hands stiff around the bottles of liquor she was mixing. She had said.

_"You may be the heiress of a mighty throne, (Y/n)...but Viggo Tarasov will cut you down faster than before you can get your hands onto the crown. You must be careful with him, (Y/n)."_

_(Y/n) had looked up at Addie, the woman staring at her with a fierceness that startled her to the core._

_"Why? Why should I fear Viggo Tarasov?"_

_Addie leaned in and whispered, her eyes widened just slightly._

_"Because Viggo Tarasov will give you his wings, only to clip them from your back right as you fall to fly. Your father killed his son...and Viggo Tarasov will not hesitate to return the favor."_

_Leaning up, she cleared her throat, looking back at the alcohol in her hands._

_"Viggo does not take interest in a person unless he wants something from them...whether it be their body, their money, or their life...don't let his flirtatious, sweet words fool you. There is a spider hiding within those roses."_

_Addie glanced at (Y/n) before acting as if nothing had ever happened, resuming her lesson._

She hadn't been able to sleep that night. Winston had noticed her fatigue, and after telling him of Addie's warning, Winston shook his head and said nothing. He didn't have to. (Y/n) knew that he was reveling in the fact that it wasn't just one person who saw past Viggo's innocent facade. In the end, (Y/n) should have known that Viggo wasn't to be trusted, and should have followed Winston's advice in not associating herself with him.

It was the beginning of the fifth month of her training, and Winston was looking forward to officially naming her a member of the Continental. He had wanted to do it publicly, but (Y/n) had asked him to keep it under wraps. After all, she didn't want to come off as someone... _important_. Her last name was just a last name to her. However, deep down, she knew that it would always mean more than just being her name. When Winston had presented her the official book, her name written in elaborate and beautiful cursive, she signed her name, pricked her thumb, and sealed her fate. Winston had smiled at her, saying.

"Welcome to the Continental, Ms. Wick."

That night, she had left for her room in the hotel, exhausted from the partying she had ensued with her teachers and Winston after the coronation. Happy, yet terrified for her future, she had gone to sleep, dreaming of nothing.

- **TIMESKIP** -

The next week for her was uneventful. Winston had not given her a mission, nor had anybody hired her just yet. Winston told her that nobody would until she was at least two weeks into her job. (Y/n) didn't know why, but she had been disappointed. As she awakened, she was greeted by the smell of coffee once more, the familiar smell wafting into her nostrils. Sliding up from her bed in her home sweet home, she greeted her father, who looked perplexed as he stared into his cup.

"Good morning, Dad."

John glanced at (Y/n), his eyes reading her. Knowing he was profiling her, (Y/n) erased any indication of nervousness, and simply smiled at him.

"What, no good morning?"

"We need to talk."

She paused, paling just slightly. Had he found out? If he did, how did he? She was sure to be as careful and precise with her secret as she could. Was her father just that good? John sighed and murmured quietly.

"You've been gone a lot these past few months. I know you're an adult, and I can't dictate what you do...but I'm worried about you."

Her shoulders slumped in relief, and her heart clenched yet filled with appreciation for her father. It was something (Y/n) adored about her father: he was always worried, always making sure she was ok. It made her smile and lay her head against his shoulder.

"I'm fine, dad. I'm just trying to be active...trying to see the world...I'm sorry I'm worrying you. I guess I'm just eager to explore the world."

John sighed, leaning his head against hers, sipping his coffee. He replied.

"That's good. I thought you might have gotten into drugs."

(Y/n) choked on her drink, coughing as the hot beverage burned the back of her throat.

"Dad! How could you think so lowly of me? I'd never ruin myself like that."

John chuckled as (Y/n) glared at him, gently nudging her.

"Like I said: You had me worried, so I was thinking of every possible reason as to why you would be out so much, and for such long periods of time."

"You're insufferable."

She muttered into her cup, however laying her head against her father's shoulder once more. John simply chuckled, replying.

"Well, someone has to worry about you."

"I can take care of myself, Dad."

"That doesn't mean I'm just going to stop worrying about you. I'm always going to worry about you, (Y/n)."

Her name was a shock to her, and (Y/n) didn't realize just how conditioned she had become. She was so used to hearing 'Ms. Wick' that her own name sounded foreign to her. Shaking her head, (Y/n) shot back.

"Same goes for you, old man."

John simply hummed, and the day began.

- **TIMESKIP** -

(Y/n) walked into the Continental, smiling as Charon smiled at her, nodding his head.

"Ms. Wick, back so soon?"

She replied, nodding.

"Yes. Just because I'm an official member now doesn't mean I'm going to stop coming to see you, Charon. You're the life of this party."

He chuckled at her joke, grabbing her room key for her.

"You're too kind. Your room has been cleaned over the course of the week. Shall I announce you to the manager?"

"That would be wonderful. Thank you, Charon. Please, tell Winston that I will see him in an hour. I'd like to freshen up before my day officially begins."

Charon nodded, and (Y/n) began her trek to her hotel room. As the elevator rose, (Y/n) sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. (Y/n) hated that she had to lie to her father for so long, and possibly for the rest of her life. He wasn't a dumb person. (Y/n) was sure that John was trying to figure out what was going on with her. (Y/n) didn't know how long it would take for her new life to reach his ears. The people of the assassin and crime world had already began to spread the news of the great Baba Yaga's daughter taking her place within the Continental. Now, it was just a matter of time before John caught wind of the truth. (Y/n) was definitely looking forward to a hot shower to calm her nerves. Walking out of the elevator, she paused, staring down the corridor.

(Y/n) was  _not_  expecting to see Viggo leaning against her door, waiting for her. Immediately becoming cautious, she was slow to continue walking to her door. When she approached him, Viggo looked at her and smiled.

"Ms. Wick, I wanted to come to congratulate you. This life...it's exciting and full of fun things. I do believe you are going to enjoy it."

(Y/n) looked at Viggo before turning to her door to unlock it.

"Thank you, Mr. Tarasov. I've enjoyed everything that I've seen so far, and I am willing to bet that I am going to enjoy the future ahead of me."

Viggo chuckled. Tipping his hat at her, he departed.

"Have a splendid day, (Y/n). Welcome to the family."

She was quick to bid him a farewell and slip into the safety of her room. Taking a deep breath, (Y/n) sighed softly. Now that her training was over, (Y/n) had noticed that there was something strange about Viggo. Something just wasn't right about him, and she didn't know what it was. It annoyed her to no end, and it made her upset that she wasn't able to figure Viggo Tarasov out. Slipping her clothing off, and preparing for her shower, (Y/n) cursed when her cell began to ring. Walking over to it, (Y/n) let her hair down, asking while running her hand through the soft locks.

"Hello?"

"Is this (Y/n) Wick?"

Frowning, (Y/n) let her hand fall, immediately trying to think of a reason why someone would be looking for her.

"Yes, who is this?"

The man on the other end cleared his throat.

"This is Dr. Utah, and I've got you listed as an emergency contact for Jonathan Wick."

(Y/n) perked up, her eyes widening.

"What's going on? Is he alright?"

The voice sighed sadly and replied to her.

"I'm afraid not. Your father was in a serious car crash just now. We've got him in surgery right now, but it would be best if you came to the hospital."

(Y/n)'s heart dropped.

"Oh my god, I'll be right there!"

Hanging up, (Y/n) was quick to slip on a pair of jeans, a bra, and a tank top, before sliding her combat boots back on. Grabbing her phone, she slipped it into her back pocket before running down the stairs, not bothering with the Elevator. Running to the front desk, she panted and informed.

"Charon, please inform Winston that I won't be seeing him today. My father is in the hospital!"

Charon's eyes widened slightly before he nodded.

"Yes, Ms. Wick. I will inform-"

"-Thanks, Charon!"

Running out, (Y/n) looked around for a taxi. However, every one that she waved down passed her by. Cursing, she spotted one parked on the curb and ran up to it. Knocking on the window, the guy seemed to jump, his sandwich dropping into his lap and back into the subway wrapper. Glaring at her, he lowered his window and asked.

"What's the big idea?"

"I'm sorry, but it's an emergency! I need you to take me to the hospital, please!"

Throwing a gold coin at the guy, the man paused before staring up at her, sighing and gesturing to the back.

"Alright, get in."

"Thank you!"

Jumping in the back, the man pulled out, the wheels squealing as he did so. Driving down the road, (Y/n) put her head in her hands, her leg shaking. Was her father ok? Was he in critical condition? The doctor had claimed that he was in surgery...just how bad was the crash? (Y/n) bit her lip. She had just seen him...it seemed to unreal to her that her father was in the hospital now, fighting for his life. Looking up, she frowned.

"Hey, this isn't the way to the hospital!"

The man grinned menacingly at her.

"I know."

She widened her eyes, and the man slipped on a gas mask. The doors to the vehicle locked, and (Y/n)'s eyes widened as the man set off a smoke bomb. The white smoke filled the vehicle, and she was forced to inhale the sweet-smelling chemical. Realizing it to be chloroform, she cursed as her movements became weaker, and her vision blurred. Falling across the backseats, (y/n)'s eyes fluttered closed, unable to resist the effects of the drug.

_'Fuck.'_

* * *

 

Waking up was a drag. There was a grogginess that held onto her body like a leech. Confused, she opened her eyes slowly, seeing her surroundings were much different than she last remembered. What had happened? Oh, that's right. She had been drugged. Tugging at her wrists albeit sloppily, a warm hand came to her chin, bringing it up to force her to face her captor.

"The effects of chloroform can be pretty strong. However, it's useful for times like these. The effects will wear off soon, my dear."

Viggo Tarasov. Ugh, she should have known. Glaring at him the best she could with her double-vision, she sneered.

"Want to know what else can be pretty strong?"

Viggo raised an eyebrow at her, asking.

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"The feeling of my foot being shoved up your miserable ass."

Viggo laughed before rearing his fist back and slamming the clenched limb into her cheek. She dared not to cry out in pain, not willing to give him the satisfaction. Viggo replied, holding her face in his hands.

"It would be in your best interest to keep that tongue held between your teeth. Remember, it is you tied up and ready to face death, not I."

"Fuck off, you miserable fuck."

His palm struck her cheek, and the fun began.

**-WITH JOHN-**

John sighed as he stared at the two different brands of eggs. While the one in his right hand was cheaper, the eggs were smaller. Though, they tasted great. In his other hand, the eggs from the other brand were kind-of expensive. However, the eggs were bigger and tasted a lot better than the cheaper brand. John didn't know which to choose. Seeing someone walk up beside him in his peripheral vision, John spied Jimmy, the nice officer that he had known since his time with the Continental. Jimmy greeted John, grabbing some eggs for himself.

"Hey, John."

"Hey, Jimmy."

Jimmy asked, glancing at John.

"How have you been? You...working, by any chance?"

John shook his head, looking down at the eggs in his hands. Deciding to choose the expensive eggs, he replied.

"I'm fine, and no. I'm off for today."

Jimmy seemed to sigh in relief. He said.

"At least one of the Wick's aren't working."

John paused and looked up at Jimmy. John asked, his eyes squinting at Jimmy.

"I'm sorry...what did you just say?"

Jimmy turned to John, frowning.

"I said at least one of you isn't working."

John asked, glaring at Jimmy.

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

Jimmy's eyes widened, and he asked.

"Wait, you mean to tell me that you don't know about your daughter?"

"What about her?"

Jimmy paused, shocked that John didn't know.

"Apparently, your daughter has become an official member of the Continental, John. Everyone's been talking about it."

Johns' heart dropped. Staring at Jimmy, it took John a split second to drop the eggs and run out of the store to his vehicle. Jimmy gasped when the eggs dropped onto the floor, and he closed his eyes, whispering after a moment of silence.

"Aw, _fuck_."

* * *

(Y/n) had never felt so much pain before. Sure, she had scraped her knee once or twice when she was younger, but this was way beyond her. I mean, a broken nose, probably a shattered cheekbone, a split lip, and who knows what else? She was practically in Pain-Topia. How did any assassin keep a straight face through all of this? How did her father manage to stay strong through all of this?

(Y/n) bit her lip and looked down at her lap. Her father…she wasn't like him. Even though Winston told her constantly that (Y/n) was just like him in looks and when it came to doing her job, (Y/n) knew that she would never truly be like her father. But now, as she sat in this chair, tied up and Viggo Tarasov sitting in front of her while brandishing brass knuckles, she didn't know if she wanted to be like John anymore.

Viggo looked down at the girl and sighed. His disappointment was fierce, but his sadness was faux.

"You know, it didn't have to turn out like this. If your father had shown my son and I mercy, you wouldn't be sitting here."

(Y/n) spat out blood and muttered in Russian, staring at Viggo with a fierceness no one else but her father could possess.

_"You should know that the Baba Yaga spares no one when you set him off."_

Viggo narrowed his eyes and slammed his hand onto the desk, (Y/n) not moving a muscle like he had hoped.

"He killed my son! My flesh and blood!"

(Y/n) growled out, shaking her head.

"No,  _you_ killed him."

Viggo's eyes widened, and (Y/n) continued on, a bravery blossoming within her that she didn't know she had.

"You knew that if you didn't give him up, my father would kill you and find him anyway. So you gave him up, in exchange for my father to spare your miserable life. It wasn't John Wick that killed your son. It was  _you_."

Viggo, in a fit of rage, yelled while punching the girl.

"Shut your whore mouth!"

The girl, despite being in pain, just chuckled as blood dripped down her chin.

"You're pathetic. You can't even accept your own crime that you have to blame others for it."

Viggo growled and hissed into the young Wick's face.

"Next word you speak, it'll be a bullet between those eyes of yours, Wick."

The girl simply replied.

"I fear no one. Not even you."

Viggo stepped back, and wiped his hands, shooting back.

"You should."

(Y/n) simply stared at him, her eyes staring him down as Viggo grabbed his phone, dialing a number. In her mind, she knew Viggo was calling her father. Who else would he call? There was no one else that she knew of that would have interest in her, other than those that just wanted to toy with John, and those Winston had warned her against. God, she should have listened to Winston when he told her to stay away from Viggo. (Y/n) sighed slightly. She knew one thing for sure: She was dying tonight. A mans' grieving heart was not a force to be reckoned with. If the card was played wrong, vengeance would rain down on those who had wronged him sevenfold, as like the story of Cain and Abel. Played right, and the evil one would be successful.

However, when you are the Baba Yaga, you are both God and Fear.

(Y/n) smirked in realization and Viggo paused his conversation with John.

"What are you smirking at, girl?"

(Y/n) just let a full smile fill her face as her head fell back, and she murmured in Russian.

_"Hurry, fall asleep, or the bogeyman will come for you."_

Just then, gunshots rang throughout the building, glass breaking and pictures on the wall falling. (Y/n) closed her eyes, and Viggo cursed loudly, dropping his phone and escaping through the back door of the room. The sounds of fighting met her ears, but she could not see what was going on behind her. Waiting with an anxious heart, (Y/n) bit her split lip. A moment later, there was silence. Then, soft yet calloused hands touched her arms, sliding down the skin of her limbs until they reached her hands to untie them. Sighing in relief, John came into (Y/n)'s view, and (Y/n) blinked up at him.

"Dad…you look terrible."

John glared at her, his anger evident in his chocolate eyes.

"Now is  _not_ the time for jokes. You...you're in some huge trouble."

(Y/n)'s smile fell, and she looked down, hissing.

"I did my best, alright? This wasn't my fault."

John stayed quiet before asking.

"Can you walk?"

(Y/n) shook her head, and John picked her up, muttering.

"You're gonna tell me everything, you understand me? If you leave out one detail, or if you lie to me, there's gonna be hell to pay, young lady."

(Y/n) huffed and laid her head on John's shoulder, replying.

"Yeah…I'll do my best."

John replied, blunt as always.

"Your best will not be enough. Your ' _best_ ' is apparently what got you here."

(Y/n) bit her lip, and closed her eyes.

"It wasn't my fault..."

"….I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Stay in tune for chapter three! Please review!


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